


Matres Sapientium

by cloudymagnolia



Series: Epilogue (Prologue) [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Post-Kingdom Hearts II, Pre-Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, Riku Loves Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Sora Loves Riku (Kingdom Hearts), spunky!kairi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudymagnolia/pseuds/cloudymagnolia
Summary: Yesterday, Riku and Sora came barreling out of the closet and admitted their feelings for one another.So maybe it's fitting that today, doors keep crashing open on them.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Epilogue (Prologue) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888540
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	Matres Sapientium

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my sister and magnificent beta, who requested a more emotionally satisfying conclusion to the Sora's-Dad-Arc in Normal's Gone for Good. I considered making this an epilogue, and then I shoved a whole bunch of other crap into it, and, well... this happened.
> 
> If anyone starts reading this and finds themselves thinking "who tf even are all these weird family members," I do recommend reading Normal's Gone for Good to see if that helps.
> 
> All my love~

When he wakes up the next morning, his first thought is that he must have a fever. He feels heavy, he’s hot all over, and he’s sweating  _ balls _ .

He opens his eyes to assess the damage and huffs out a laugh when he realizes. Sora is spread eagled over him, face planted in his chest, and it feels like...yep. Riku rolls his eyes up at the ceiling. He’s drooling on him, too.

The memories of the previous evening come rushing back. Of Sora kissing him. Of kissing Sora. Of asking his father if he could stay the night, then making a promise that felt almost like a vow to each other as they lay together under the blankets. The memories make his heart race.

His first instinct — born from a childhood of waking up with a Sora-shaped burr sticking to him after sleepovers — had been to shove Sora off of him to get some air. But that would wake Sora up. 

He ponders. He  _ does  _ want some air, but he’s feeling lovestruck and indulgent. He decides to try rolling Sora off of him gently for once.

Immediately, he’s reminded why he never does this. As soon as he even  _ thinks _ about moving, some sleeping sixth sense of Sora’s kicks in and his thighs and arms clamp around him like a vise. The most Riku manages is to pivot them onto their sides, so that they’re resting chest to chest.

_ That  _ just gives Sora the opportunity to kick one leg all the way over Riku’s hip and draw them flush together and —okay, now their morning wood is pressed together, and this  _ really  _ has to stop. He’s being such a pain in the butt that Riku could almost imagine that he’s awake and just messing with him, but he knows him too well for that. Sora’s brattiness is just such a deeply ingrained character trait that he’s fully capable of manifesting it even in sleep.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Wriggling one of his arms free from his Sora-prison, Riku jostles Sora so his head is lolling back and gets himself in position. He presses the nail of his forefinger and middle finger into the fleshy inside of this thumb, then administers a perfectly-executed forehead flick that has Sora sputtering awake.

“Wha—what was that for?” Sora says, blinking sleep-fuzzy, betrayed eyes up at him. Riku watches Sora register where he is, who he’s with, how they’re curled around each other, and waits for him to panic.

“Wait,” Sora says, frowning, while Riku’s brain begins shrieking, _ I knew he’d regret it!  _ But then Sora’s face splits in half with the sunniest smile that Riku’s ever  _ seen _ . “Kiss me first.  _ Then  _ you can tell me what that was for.”

Feeling like his soul is  _ singing _ a half-remembered melody just for him and Sora, Riku leans forward until their foreheads are knocking together, then places his lips on Sora’s.

_ Eugh _ . He wrinkles his nose and pulls away.

“What’s wrong?” Sora asks.

“Sora, your breath smells terrible.”

“Okay, well, yours doesn’t exactly smell sexy either,” he points out, leaning in for another kiss that Riku pushes away.

“Well, let me  _ up _ , and I’ll go brush my teeth.”

“Don’t wanna,” Sora says, still chasing him with puckered lips. “This is more fun.”

“Sora,” Riku gasps, giggling from being pawed at. “Stop it— _ ew! _ ” as Sora leans over him and blows a breath in his face.

Sora flops back, looking pleased with himself.

“That’s it,” Riku growls, and rolls on top of him.

“Get off,” Sora says, but the sound is muffled against Riku’s shirt. Riku has enough of a height advantage that Sora has disappeared completely beneath him, face pressed into his collarbone and feet tangled with his under the blankets. Only his forearms are visible where they’re sprawled out at his sides.

He realizes he’s screwed as soon as Sora starts giggling beneath him, and then Sora has fashioned his hands into tickle-claws and is running his fingers along Riku’s sensitive ribcage. The fluttery sensation makes him gasp and writhe, and eventually he lifts himself up onto his arms just to be sure he doesn’t accidentally elbow Sora in the face or something.

Sora grins at him cheekily, and Riku shifts so he’s straddling his waist. Sora’s eyes flicker to the side—and honestly, that’s like the  _ first tell  _ of his that Riku ever learned—so as soon as Sora reaches for him again, he’s ready and waiting, clasping his wrists firmly in his hands and pinning them on either side of the pillow.

“Riku,” Sora whines. They’re both too caught up in their game to notice the knock on the door. “Let me up.”

“Not a chance,” Riku laughs.

“C’mon, Riku,” Sora says, twisting against Riku’s grip with maybe one tenth of his actual strength. “Get off me for real.”

“But I thought this is what you  _ wanted _ ,” he says. “And anyways, this is more  _ fun—” _

“ _ Riku Segara! _ ”

“Holy  _ hell— _ ” Riku sits bolt upright, hands flying up in a defensive posture while Sora’s go to his waist, bracing his back. “ _ Melissa _ !” Riku gasps. “Don’t you  _ knock? Ow! _ ”

Melissa takes two steps over to the bed and grabs the cartilage of Riku’s right ear between her thumb and forefinger. She uses it to  _ drag  _ him out of the bed, then out of the  _ room _ , only stopping when they’re at the foot of the stairs. He turns to glare at her as soon as she lets go, but there’s so much fire in her eyes that he gulps and presses himself back against the wall.

“What the  _ hell _ were you doing?” she hisses.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Riku begins, face flushing, because they  _ weren’t _ , and his dad had  _ said  _ Sora could stay over.

“ _ You expect me to believe that? _ ” If looks could kill, he would be very dead. “Listen to me, kid, because I am going to say this  _ exactly once _ . You hear me?”

He holds out for about three seconds before muttering a sullen:

“Yes, Melissa.”

“Good. When someone in your bed tells you to get off of them,  _ you fucking get off of them. Immediately.  _ Understand?”

Riku’s mouth drops open.

“ _ What _ ?” he gasps. “ _ No! _ Melissa, that isn’t—”

She doesn’t even bother interrupting him, just claps a hand over his mouth to muffle his voice. Riku only barely manages to reign in his instinctive reaction to that, which is to lick her palm. Down that path lies madness.

And death.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” she says, voice actually  _ shaking  _ with how angry she is. “You are going to go back in there, and you are going to apologize to your boyfriend, and if you do  _ anything _ like that  _ ever  _ again, you will be out of this house so fast your dad will think I did it with mirrors.”

Her hand is shaking, too, and slowly it dawns on Riku that she isn’t flushed, the way he’d expect someone to be if they were really, really angry. She’s pale, and her pupils are all the way dilated, almost like—

Almost like she’s  _ terrified _ .

“I understand,” he says—or tries to say, because Melissa’s palm is still over his mouth. She drops it, and he repeats himself.

He waits for her to stalk into the kitchen, still shaking so badly she hits her shoulder on the doorframe, before going back upstairs, feeling thoughtful.

Melissa would have been in college when Margi was conceived.

No one has mentioned anything about Margi’s father.

He closes the door behind him—and  _ locks _ it, thank you very much—and flops back down on his bed next to Sora. 

“Was she mad?” Sora asks after a few beats of silence, fiddling with the frayed hem of the flat sheet. 

“Yeah,” Riku says, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “But not in the way you think.”

Sora frowns at him, and Riku sighs. 

“She heard you tell me to get off you, and when I didn’t, she was worried I might be hurting you.”

“ _ What? _ ” Sora yelps. Now it’s his turn to sit bolt upright. “Why does everyone keep thinking you’re  _ molesting _ me or something—”

“Um. What?”

“Nothing!” Sora groans. “It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

For the sake of his own sanity, Riku decides to forget about it.

“So you set her straight, right?” he asks after a second.

“Well...no.” Riku admits.

“ _ Riku _ ,” Sora moans, covering his eyes with his hands.

“I’m sorry! I just didn’t think she wanted to hear anything except that I wasn’t going to do it again! And besides, she...had a point.”

“ _ What _ ?” Sora gasps. “ _ What _ point?”

“I really...shouldn’t keep doing something after you tell me to stop. Especially not when we’re…” he lets himself trail off.

“We were  _ playing _ ,” Sora insists. “You  _ know _ I could have gotten out of that weak-ass wrist lock any time I wanted to—”

“I know. But...maybe we should stop playing games like that.”

“What if I don’t  _ want _ to stop playing games like that?” 

“I…” Riku’s mind stalls out. “What?”

“What if I don’t  _ want _ you to stop,” Sora repeats. He’s turning steadily pink, but he sucks on his teeth and has that stubborn, defiant glint in his eye that usually means Riku’s about to follow him into some sort of trouble. “I  _ like  _ it when you wrestle with me and pin me down and stuff. It’s fun.” He pauses for a second, dropping his eyes. “It feels good.”

“But what if you tell me to stop sometime and you’re serious, but I think we’re still playing? I could really hurt you, worse than just bruising your arm or getting sand in your eyes like when we were younger.”

“You won’t. I know you won’t—”

_ “Sora— _ ”

“ _ But _ if you’re so worried about it, we’ll pick a safeword to make you feel better.”

Riku stares at him, then lets himself collapse face-first into his pillow, hoping death will be swift.

“Riku?” Sora asks, shaking his shoulder. “C’mon! It’s a good idea!”

“I cannot  _ deal  _ with you knowing about safewords right now,” he moans, voice muffled.

“Oh, come  _ on _ , Riku! I’m not that much younger than you, and you obviously know about them!”

“You were in a pod for an entire fucking year, and traveling with a magical duck and magical dog the rest of the time! And you were  _ fourteen  _ before that! How did you even learn about this stuff?”

Sora is conspicuously silent.

“Oh my God,” Riku mutters, rolling up on one arm so he can look at Sora, who’s blushing, but otherwise unrepentant. “You looked up sex things on the gummiship’s netlink, didn’t you.”

“Well what  _ else  _ was I supposed to do when we were floating through space for  _ days  _ at a time besides watch porn?” Sora snaps at him.

“ _ Literally anything else! _ ” Riku wails. “How did we even start stalking about this?” 

“ _ Because _ you’re too much of a goober to tell your step-mom that you  _ weren’t hurting me _ ,” Sora says, thwacking his chest with the back of his hand. “And now she’s probably thinking all kinds of mean things about you, and…” he trails off as a thought drifts to the front of his brain. Riku can almost  _ watch _ it happen. “Should I go talk to Melissa?”

“No!” Riku snaps. Sora just looks at him, and he shoves his face back into the pillow. Suffocation is looking better and better.

“Come on, it might make things better!”

“There is a 1000% chance it would make things worse,” Riku mumbles into his pillow.

“I thought percentages didn’t work like that, Riku,” Sora says in the nasal, know-it-all voice he uses when he’s quoting him at him. 

“Shut up,” Riku groans. “Go brush your teeth. Let me sulk for a minute.”

Sora snorts and presses an obnoxiously loud kiss to the back of his head, but does then leave the room. Riku listens to the water running in the bathroom, willing his blush to calm down.

Sora’s back a few minutes later to tell him the bathroom’s free, and by then Riku can lift his face without feeling like it’s melting off his skull. He sends Sora downstairs to get breakfast and goes to take his shower.

In hindsight, he maybe should have known better than to let Sora go downstairs by himself. He realizes this when he walks into the kitchen, hair still damp, and finds a soggy, half-eaten bowl of sugary cereal at Sora’s spot at the table, and hears soft voices from the living room.

Before he can storm across the hall and demand to know  _ what  _ Sora thinks he’s doing, Melissa crosses into the kitchen, Sora following close behind. Riku narrows his eyes at him, trying to project a  _ what-did-you-just-do _ kind of vibe, but Sora responds with a massive, shit-eating grin and goes back to his cereal. For her part, Melissa ruffles his hair affectionately as she grabs Ray-Jay’s bottle from the fridge and begins heating it, so maybe Sora actually  _ did  _ help.

Breakfast is companionable—more so than Riku is expecting. Part of him had been worried that spending time with Sora might be  _ awkward  _ now that they’re...well, they still need to work out a label—but he’s proved pleasantly wrong. Sora kicks at his legs under the table like he always does, and teases Riku until he’s red in the face like the brat he’s always been. It’s nice.

Then, when he inevitably takes the teasing too far, he pairs his bashful, “Sorry,” with a kiss to Riku’s palm, and that’s nice too.

They stay at the kitchen table for a while once they’re done eating, talking about all kinds of things. Eventually, Melissa pops her head in to tell them she’s taking the kids to play group.

“Your dad will be home in about an hour,” she says. “Think you two can be safe until then?”

Riku turns red, but Sora just laughs.

“We promise not to burn the house down,” he says, raising his left hand like he’s swearing on something holy. Melissa looks at him, nonplussed, and not for the first time Riku wonders if Sora is unflappable or really  _ that  _ oblivious.

He gets his answer after the front door clicks shut. Sora turns to him, flushed and horrified, and whispers:

“She wasn’t talking about burning the house down, was she.”

Riku laughs, and since they have the house to themselves for a while, pulls Sora through to the living room and shoves him down on the couch in a tangled heap of giggles and arms and legs, and gives Sora the good morning kiss he’d wanted.

They stay that way for a while, kissing languidly, teasing each other with hands running up each other’s sides, but staying just this side of too turned on. Riku has always felt clumsy in relationships of all kinds, and is privately delighted that Sora’s so firm with setting the pace. He puts Riku’s hands where he wants them, demands more from his kisses when Riku’s too gentle, then pulls away when he’s too rough. It’s...grounding, and Riku feels both safe and exhilarated, perfectly balanced on the knife’s edge between not enough and far too much.

Riku’s just beginning to wonder if he should maybe be worried that his dad is coming home soon and they’re sucking face on the couch when there’s a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” Sora murmurs into his mouth.

“What if it’s important?” he asks, shivering pleasantly when Sora nips at his lower lip.

“Everyone important has a key.”

“What if it’s your mom? Ah!” he gasps when Sora brushes his lips over the sensitive spot he didn’t know he had at the side of his jaw.

“My mom has a key.”

“She hasn’t used it in years.”

“She’d call before coming to the house.”

“Still…” Privately, Riku doesn’t know why he’s still protesting. Whoever had been at the door is surely gone by  _ now _ , but each one of his protests is getting the most  _ delicious  _ reaction from Sora, and…

Huh. Maybe they  _ do  _ need a safeword.

The knock comes again, more insistent this time, and lasting longer. Sora sighs and pushes himself up, letting Riku slip out from beneath his Sora-blanket so he can get to the door. He feels buoyant, like a bubble machine is stuck in his chest. 

He yelps when he pulls the door open. The bubbles burst.

“Zoe!”

“Hi, Riku,” she says. She looks just the same as she did yesterday: pink lipstick, blue eyeshadow, tired smile. It surprises him for some reason. Why should she look the same when the whole  _ world  _ has changed? “Don’t worry. I’m just here to drop off Sora’s stuff. The backpack he brought from his mom’s house and the clothes we bought yesterday.”

“O-oh,” he says, and Zoe thrusts the backpack and Tap bag into his slack hands. “Thanks.”

“Riku?” he hears from behind him. Zoe winces. 

“One second,” he tells her, then pivots so he’s standing half inside the house. “It’s Zoe,” he says, trying to keep his voice low enough that Zoe won’t be able to overhear.

Sora doesn’t answer. He just makes a face and disappears back into the living room.

Zoe’s still smiling when he turns back to her, but her eyes are sad.

“Don’t worry. I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to see me.”

Riku gawps at her for a second before stepping all the way out onto the stoop, easing the door shut behind him.

“How did you know he was here?”

Zoe snorts.

“When a kid goes running out of a restaurant after finding out his dad was keeping his best friend’s crush on him a  _ secret _ for  _ two years _ , there’s a pretty obvious conclusion.”

“Oh,” Riku says, frowning. It’s funny. Sora had given him the broad strokes of what had happened last night, but he hadn’t thought to try to  _ place  _ the events anywhere. It feels so much more dramatic if he pictures it happening in a restaurant than if he imagines it in, say, the car. 

“So.” Zoe is playing with the zipper on her leather jacket. “You two are together now?”

“Uh,” Riku says, thinking again that he and Sora  _ really _ need to talk about a label. “Yeah.”

She sighs, low and long, and Riku tenses, feeling his face set in a dangerous scowl.

Zoe huffs out a humorless laugh when she sees it.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, I promise. It’s just…I  _ told  _ Norman last night, he has three options: he can learn to like it, he can learn to keep his trap shut, or he can learn to live without his son.”

“His dad won’t see him?” Riku asks, blood running cold. He can’t imagine what that will do to Sora.

Zoe raises her eyebrows.

“I assumed  _ Sora  _ wouldn’t see  _ him _ , at least without a pretty major attitude change.”

Riku feels his heart start beating again.

“He will. I know he will. Just give him a couple of days—a week, at the most—and he’ll calm down and want to talk.”

Zoe’s eyebrows haven’t come down.

“Forgiving kid,” she says.

Riku shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah,” he says, knowing he put all sorts of weird, too-strong inflections into it. “Tell me,” he says, before he can chicken out. “Is it—is it the being gay thing that Mr. Bienaim é has a problem with, or is it...me?”

Zoe hisses out a breath, and Riku winces, because that’s an answer right there.

“I’m not...sure,” she says finally. “Both, I think. Sora’s father has some very... _antiquated_ ideas about sexuality, and he really believes that Sora—well. That Sora caught or learned being gay from you.”

Riku winces. He’d always assumed that was fundamentally the problem that Sora’s dad had with him. His mom had never exactly made a secret of the fact that he  _ blatantly  _ preferred boys, even as a child. He remembers the Bienaimés’ Christmas party, the last year she was alive, when she’d told everyone the story about Riku insisting she cross out the word “princess” in all his story books and replace it with the word “prince.” 

But it still hurts to hear it out loud.

“If Sora had ended up with someone else, it might have been easier for his father to see that being gay isn’t something you—you  _ learn  _ or you  _ catch _ . And that might have made it easier for him to see that there’s nothing  _ wrong  _ with it, and so that, by extension,  _ he _ didn’t do anything wrong as Sora’s father.”

“Yeah,” Riku mutters.

“And…” Zoe falters.

“Just tell me,” Riku says. He would rather know, and he has an astute guess as to what she’s about to say, anyway.

She gives him that wry smile again. He recognizes it from his own face. It’s the one he learned the year that Sora was asleep. The one that says you’ve stopped believing that the universe has any justice besides irony. 

“He blames you for Sora leaving.”

He knew it was coming, but it still feels like a sucker punch, because it  _ was  _ his fault. It would be so much easier to take if it wasn’t true. He closes his eyes to get his breath back.

“Yeah,” he rasps, throat dry.

“It’s so that he doesn’t have to blame himself, you know?” Zoe continues, and Riku wonders if she noticed the way he’s tensed up, or...not. “You get good at that in a courtroom. Assigning blame.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she bursts out with:

“ _ Did  _ you assault him?”

“I— _ what _ ?” he asks, struggling to catch up with the conversation. Then: “ _ Oh _ . Not—not in the way that word...usually implies.”

She sucks on her teeth, face inscrutable.

“But you did try to hurt him?”

He really doesn’t deserve Sora’s love at all, does he? Too forgiving is right.

“I was...easy to manipulate,” he answers finally. Somehow, it’s harder to admit than just a simple yes, but Zoe deserves the whole truth. “I should have been stronger.”

There’s more silence, and he doesn’t know if he should be tensing up for a punch to the face.

“Oh,  _ Riku _ .” The unexpected tenderness makes him look up. “ _ Everyone _ can be manipulated, no matter how strong they are. Everyone has something that can be used against them.”

Riku feels himself flush and looks away, embarrassed. He still doesn’t quite know what to do with kindness when it’s offered to him. He’s done so little to deserve it.

“What happened to them?” Zoe asks for a moment. “The person—or  _ people— _ who manipulated you?”

“She’s still out there,” he says, and that’s hard to say, too. “I tried, and Sora tried, but we couldn’t stop her completely, so she’s still out there. And…” he swallows. “She’s not even the worst of them.”

The sudden hand on his shoulder makes him jump.

“There’s always someone worse,” she agrees.

He shivers, but he has found the words to be true.

“I know.”

She sighs, low and long, then takes a step back.

“I’ll do what I can with Norman,” she says. “Try to bring him around. It might—take a while. Longer than a week, definitely—prejudice like that isn’t  _ rational _ , and so…” She shakes her head. “But  _ I’ll _ stay in touch, at least. With Sora. And...with you. In the meantime, do me a favor?”

“Um?” Riku says.

“Take care of him. And...let him take care of you.”

She begins to turn around, then stops herself.

“And Riku. One last thing. Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? I went through something hard when I was about your age, and I landed...worse than you.”

He raises his eyebrows, but knows enough not to pry. Everyone has a history.

He waits until her car has pulled out of the drive before going back inside. He leaves Sora’s stuff in the entryway and finds him still in the living room, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders set in a tense line. 

“ _ There _ you are,” he says, relief and annoyance tingeing his voice in equal measure. “You were gone  _ forever _ .”

“Sorry,” Riku says, sitting down near enough that Sora can touch him if he wants. “She was returning your stuff. And she wanted to make sure you were okay. Safe.”

“Hmph.”

“She said she’d talk to your dad to see if she could get him to be less of a fucking douchebag.”

“She didn’t actually say  _ fucking douchebag _ ,” Sora says, but the corners of his lips are threatening to turn up in a smile.

“Well, it was heavily implied.”

Sora does smile this time.

“I probably should have at least said hi to her,” he says, sighing. “I  _ like  _ her, and she was trying to be nice, but…”

“Hey,” Riku says, reaching for his hand, twining their fingers together. “It’s okay. You don’t have to rush it.”

“Yeah,” Sora says, trailing off. His eyes are still far away, but his voice says he doesn’t want to talk anymore. Probably the best thing Riku can do for him is to distract him, so the back of his mind can take its time tugging at whatever snarl of emotions is making him look that way. 

Riku turns on the TV and sets the channel to the worst movie he can find, then lies down sideways and draws Sora close to him so they’re spooning on the couch. Sora deals with his fidgets by playing with Riku’s fingers splayed across his chest. 

Riku’s eyes are just beginning to slip closed, Sora’s steady breathing lulling him to sleep, when there’s another couple of bangs at the door. 

“Okay, we are  _ actually  _ ignoring that,” Sora groans, tightening his hold on his hand.

“Yeah,” Riku agrees, burying his face in Sora’s hair. Everyone important has a key.

The knocking continues, getting progressively louder, until with one massive  _ bang _ , he hears the door clatter open.

And quite possibly off of its hinges.

“ _ Riku Segara _ !” 

It’s the second time he’s heard someone shout his full name at him, and he automatically tenses, clamping down on Sora.

There are a few dramatically heavy footfalls, and then Kairi stomps into view.

“Riku, I am  _ so  _ mad at—” She gets as far as that before she notices the way they’re curled around each other, and her murderous glare melts into a soft, goofy smile. Then she catches herself, and the glare is back. “ _ Don’t  _ think you can get out of this just by being cute and in love, Riku!”

Riku’s eyes narrow when he hears the “L” word. What if he and Sora hadn’t actually talked through their feelings for each other? What if they were just...spooning together on the couch? Okay, he can’t hold onto the anger here. Instead, he settles for a half-meek, half-snarky:

“May I ask  _ why _ I’m in trouble, oh Princess of Heart?”

The Princess of Heart comment doesn’t even sidetrack her, either, so she must be  _ really _ mad.

“Why?” Kairi sputters. “ _ Why _ ? You stood me up, Riku! You were supposed to meet me on the play island almost two  _ hours  _ ago!”

“Oh, shit,” he says, jerking up. He does remember promising that now, over their food court burgers yesterday— _ fuck _ , was that only yesterday? “ _ Fuck _ , Kairi, I’m so sorry—I forgot—”

“You  _ said _ you were gonna give me another keyblade lesson!”

“I know, Kairi, I’m  _ sorry _ , shit just kind of kept happening—”

“Wait, you’re giving Kairi keyblade lessons?” Sora interrupts them both. “Ugh, that sounds like so much  _ fun— _ I wanna help!”

Kairi turns her wrathful gaze on him.

“Don’t try being cute to get your boyfriend out of trouble with me. That stopped working when we were, like, ten.”

“Sorry, Kairi.”

She puts her hands on her hips and sighs.

“Fine,” she says, voice a lot milder now as she flings herself into the armchair. “I  _ guess _ I can understand how coming out to each other and admitting being madly in love with each other and weeping romantically into each other’s arms—”

“ _ We didn’t weep— _ ”

“—is a pretty good reason for forgetting our friend date.”

She looks at them again, and whatever she sees on their faces makes her eyebrows crawl into her bangs.

“Waitasecond,” she says. “Did something else happen?” She narrows her eyes. “Sora, why aren’t you at your dad’s house right now?”

Sora sits up, too, sighing, and moodily rearranges Riku’s arms and legs so that he can sit sideways across his lap. They end up with Riku’s arms wrapped around his waist and his chin flattening Sora’s hair. He’s just about to remind Sora that he doesn’t have to talk about anything that he doesn’t want to, but gets hung up on wondering if that’s a weird or overbearing thing to say, so Kairi beats him to it.

“Do you not want to talk about it?” she asks, nose crinkling. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“No, I do,” Sora says. “I want you to know what happened, Kairi, but it still makes me feel so  _ mad _ to think about it that I’m worried I’m gonna yell.”

“Hey,” Riku says, nuzzling the top of his head. “Yell if it’ll make you feel better. We’ve got you.”

“Yeah,” Sora says, sounding doubtful. He glances at Kairi, then huffs. 

It takes him a second to get going, but once he does, the whole story comes pouring out of him at once, starting with baked potatoes and polaroids, and ending with Sora staying the night. He has to backtrack a few times to explain certain things—and Riku inwardly groans when he learns why Zoe asked that pointed question about Riku  _ assaulting _ him—but is grateful for the comprehensive overview, because it turns out that Riku didn’t even know the  _ half  _ of what had happened. 

He feels his lips pressing together in a forbidding line when Sora recounts how his father told him he couldn’t see Riku again; feels his cheeks flush when Sora lists the words his father used to describe being gay; he almost loses his goddamn  _ mind  _ when Sora admits that his father had called the letter Riku had written him when he was fourteen confessing his feelings for him—a letter full of tenderness, devotion, anguish, and hope—a “ _ disgusting  _ letter encouraging Sora to  _ sexually experiment.”  _

By the end of Sora’s monologue, Riku has his fingertips pressed into Sora’s waist so hard they might leave bruises, and Sora’s nearly shouting. He can’t see Sora’s face from the way they’re sitting, but he knows his eyes are blazing, and it’s obvious from his word-perfect recitation that the events of the previous night are seared in his memory forever. 

Once Sora’s done, he buries his face in Riku’s shirt, like he’s embarrassed for shouting, and Riku sneaks a glance at Kairi.

Her face is totally blank. Porcelain expressionless.

“Kairi?” he asks, because  _ fuck _ that’s creepy, and strokes a hand through Sora’s hair, because  _ fuck his dad.  _

She doesn’t seem to hear him. She really is sitting like she’s frozen in time. It’s uncanny. The hairs at the back of his neck begin to prickle.

Then there’s a sudden golden flash, and Kairi still hasn’t moved but now she’s holding her keyblade. 

Sora and Riku both stare at her, then they’re all moving at once. Kairi pushes herself out of her chair and makes it all the way to the  _ door _ , keyblade out like she’s planning on just cutting through everyone who gets in her way, before they catch up with her.

“Kairi!” Sora yelps, grabbing her wrists so she can’t accidentally unheart someone, while Riku grabs her around the waist and starts hauling her back into the living room. It’s slow going, because she won’t stop struggling, muttering things like, “I’ll fucking kill him,” and “He breaks my friends’ hearts, I break his  _ face _ ,” all the while, and  _ fuck _ she’s strong. Eventually they decide that the best thing to do is to throw her onto the couch and sit on her. 

It takes about ten minutes for her to calm down. Sora is sitting on her stomach, stroking her hair, while Riku perches on her thighs, trying to find the right balance between holding her down and not crushing her to death. He knows she’s coming out of it because he can actually  _ feel _ her relaxing. Once he thinks it’s safe, Riku holds himself up on his arms so she can throw her legs over his lap, figuring that will be at least marginally more comfortable for her. He pats her knee, then realizes it’s a weird thing to do and stops.  _ Then  _ he realizes that none of them care if it’s weird, and starts up again.

Distantly, he notices that the movie that was playing is over, and a smarmy TV host is now cheerfully talking about  _ true crimes.  _

“Are you okay?” Riku says to the room at large, once everyone is quiet, comfortable, and breathing more-or-less evenly.

“Kairi?” Sora prompts.

“ _ Fine _ ,” she mutters. Riku blinks. Her voice sounds really watery.

“Kai?” Riku says.

“Shut up! I know it’s not about me and I’m just being stupid, okay?”

Riku and Sora exchange a  _ look _ . It wouldn’t be the first time that one of Kairi’s temper tantrums has ended with her crying, but she’s never reacted like  _ this  _ before. Usually she just keeps on cussing out whoever or whatever made her mad in the first place, while the tears sweat the last of her anger out. 

“Oh…” Sora says. “I get it.” His voice is unimaginably tender. “You’re thinking about what will happen when you tell  _ your  _ dad. That’s not stupid, Kai, that’s a normal thing to think about right now.”

Riku blinks, sure he misunderstood. Sora and Kairi haven’t spent any time alone together since he and Kairi talked the other day, so Sora can’t  _ possibly  _ be saying what it sounds like he’s saying. 

“But I really don’t think you should worry,” he continues. “Your dad is great. He was the one who got the referendum to legalize gay marriage on the ballot in the first place, remember? I’m sure he’ll accept you for who you are. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just egg his car.”

Kairi sniffs, while Riku’s mouth drops open. He feels the overwhelming swirl of half-formed thoughts and unrecognized emotions that usually precedes a major meltdown. He claps a hand over his mouth to stifle the manic giggle (or possibly sob) he can feel in his throat.

“Riku?” Sora asks, blinking. Riku realizes it probably looks pretty weird, from Sora’s point of view: he just randomly turned red and started shaking.

“You  _ knew _ ?” he squeaks, between bubbles of whatever-it-is erupting in his throat. “You  _ knew  _ that Kairi is—”

He doesn’t get the last word out before he has to muffle the hysteria again, and Sora frowns. For a second Riku thinks he didn’t understand.

“Well, yeah, of course,” he says. “I mean, after she had that  _ massive  _ crush on Selphie that one year, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Riku closes his eyes, as—for the third time in as many days—the foundation of his life crumbles to nothing.

First, he’d learned that Kairi is gay—and as a consequence,  _ isn’t in love with Sora _ .

Then he’d learned that Sora is in love with  _ him. _

And now he’s learning that Sora knew Kairi was gay the  _ whole time. _

Unlike the previous two life-altering moments,  _ this _ one makes him feel sick. Because  _ this... _ if Sora  _ knew _ , then all Riku’s demented jealousy...all his dark thoughts, twisted rage, depraved desire... _ everything  _ that had called out to him to  _ manipulate _ , to  _ separate _ , to  _ control _ …

All of it was even more awful and pointless than he’d thought.

If Kairi being gay had been some sort of big secret, then  _ maybe _ he could have been forgiven for thinking that the two of them would run away and leave him behind. But there  _ was  _ no big secret. Sora, the  _ literal most oblivious human in all the worlds,  _ had realized it. There’s no excuse, no caveat, no saving grace. Riku had simply been too blind and self-absorbed to see beyond the edge of his nose. He’d been too blind to realize that one of his best friends had  _ needed  _ him. His ill, stricken mind had taken Sora’s attempts at being  _ supportive _ and twisted it around, and the darkness had used  _ that _ to punch its way inside. 

“Riku, are  _ you _ okay?” Sora asks.

Riku jerks his head—kind of a half-diagonally, which just about summarizes how he’s feeling right now.

“Sora,” Kairi says. It’s her  _ give Riku a second _ voice, and  _ god almighty _ , isn’t it sad that she even needs to  _ have  _ one of those?

“Um…” Sora says. “I’ll make soup?”

Riku tries desperately to stifle another hiccup of giggles while Sora gets off of Kairi and ambles into the kitchen. Christ, how is it possible that  _ Sora  _ was the one who just poured his heart out, yet he and Kairi are the ones breaking down? 

Once Sora’s gone, Kairi grabs the throw pillow her head is resting on and hands it to him so he can muffle his insane laugh-sobs. She waits until he’s like 80% calm to try talking to him. 

“Are you actually okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Riku says, voice shuddery but holding. “I’m just...I was...so...jealous. Of the two of you. And it was all so...so  _ pointless  _ and  _ stupid _ …”

“Hmm,” she hums.

“Are  _ you  _ okay?” he asks.

Kairi sighs.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He reaches for her hand.

“You don’t have to tell your dad yet,” he reminds her. “Not if you don’t want to. Hell, you don’t have to tell your dad  _ ever.  _ It’s okay if you decide that’s a part of yourself you don’t want to share with him.”

She’s quiet for a second.

“Thanks, Riku,” she says, squeezing his hand “I think...I think I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course.”

“You should tell Sora about being jealous.”

“ _ What _ ?” he asks, accidentally gripping her hand too tight, making her wince.

“I know you’re sitting over there thinking you’re defective or whatever for letting the darkness get to you so easily. But that’s just not true. Jealousy is your problem, yeah, but if it hadn’t been you, it could’ve been Sora and his need to be liked, or me and my ambition. And you’re doing so much better with it now, Riku.”

Riku looks down at the damp spots on the pillow still resting on Kairi’s knees.

“But I haven’t beaten it,” he says. “I’ll never fully beat it.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kairi says. “Of course you won’t. It’s something you’re going to have to struggle with all your life. And that’s  _ okay,  _ Riku. We all have things we struggle with all our lives. But Sora deserves the chance to  _ help you _ with it, if he wants to. He deserves to be as proud of you as  _ I  _ am for getting out in front of it and not letting it rule your life anymore.”

For just a moment, Riku wishes he hadn’t cut his hair. Sometimes Kairi’s gentle voice sounds so much like the King’s it makes his heart hurt, which then makes him blush, which makes him want to hide behind a curtain of hair.

“Soup’s up!” Sora calls cheerfully from the kitchen. Riku and Kairi glance at each other, then each make one last attempt at wiping the snot and tear tracks off their faces. They join him in the kitchen.

Not even the crushing awkwardness of a semi-public meltdown can overwrite the simple camaraderie the three of them have together, and after a few stilted starts, the conversation starts flowing normally enough.

“It’s so weird to see your kitchen with a high chair in it,” Kairi says, eyes glazed a tiny bit, probably trying to picture the way Riku’s kitchen used to look.

“That’s right!” Sora says. “Kairi, have you met Margi or Ray-Jay yet?” When she shakes her head, Sora claps his head, and continues, eyes gleaming: “Ohmygosh, can we have a family beach day? Do you think Ray-Jay is one of those babies who’s afraid of the ocean? Does Margi know how to swim? Does—”

Sora might have kept right on asking questions forever if the front door hadn’t swung open.

“Riku?” his dad calls. It’s the first thing he does when he gets home now, to make sure his oldest son is still safe and where he’s supposed to be.

“In here, Dad.”

His dad comes through to the kitchen, holding a gallon of milk in his hand.

“Kairi!” he says, delighted, dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head as he heads for the fridge.

“Uh…” Kairi says stupidly, and Riku smiles, but it’s a little sad. Kairi had arrived on the islands right after his mom had died. She’d never known his dad when he was well. 

“Aren’t you home a little late, Dad?” Riku asks.

“Yeah. Melissa sent me to the store for milk, then I decided to pick up some parts for my bike. Want to help me with it this afternoon?”

“Sure.”

“By the way, Sora,” his dad says, pausing in the doorway. “Did you call your mom?”

“Uh...no?” Sora says. “Sorry, should I have?”

“No,” his dad is quick to reassure him. “Just, I ran into her at the store, and she knew you were here. She asked me when you were coming home. She sounded worried.”

“O-oh,” Sora says, dropping his eyes to the table.

“Think about calling her, okay?”

“Okay.”

Riku and Kairi look at him, but they both wait until his dad is up the stairs to speak.

“What do you want to do?” Kairi asks him, voice soft.

“I think…” Sora sighs and stirs his soup. “I think I want to go home after lunch.”

“Okay,” she says. “Riku and I will walk with you.”

So they do. They finish lunch first and clean up, wiping down the table and loading the dishwasher before the three of them head for the other side of town. Sora has his backpack slung over his shoulder and Riku carries his Tap bag in his free hand. The three of them hold hands, which earns them a few curious looks, but Riku—and, he imagines, Sora and Kairi—are so far past the point of caring it’s almost funny.

“This is me, guys,” Kairi says when they pause in front of her house. “Unless you want me to go with you?”

“Nah,” Sora says, shrugging. “I think this is something me and Riku should do alone.”

“Okay.” 

Riku envies how unbothered she is by it, when that comment would have made him  _ snarl _ if Sora had said it to him. 

“Love ya’, nerds. And remember, ten o’clock tomorrow at the play island, or I’m sneaking into your rooms and buzzing both of your heads.”

“We never should have given her a keyblade,” Riku mutters to Sora as she waves and heads inside.

Sora laughs and drops Riku’s hand, only to wrap his arm around his waist instead. After a second, Riku wraps his own arm around Sora’s shoulders. It makes it uncomfortable to walk, shoulders and hips bumping against each other on every step, but it’s not that far, and they manage. 

As soon as they’re within sight of Sora’s front window, the door to his house swings open and his mom comes racing out. Riku drops his arm just as Mrs. Bienaimé sweeps him into a crushing hug.

“Oh, my baby,” she gasps, voice shaky. “What on earth  _ happened _ ? Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Sora says, rubbing her back as he waits for her to calm down. “How did you know something happened?”

“Your father’s— _ Zoe _ ,” his mother corrects herself, like it takes some effort. “She called me last night. She said you’d had a fight with your father and that you’d be staying with Riku for the night. I tried to ask her more questions about it, but she just kept saying it wasn’t her place to tell me anything else…”

His mom takes a step back so she can look him in the eye.

“What on  _ earth _ were the two of you fighting about?” she asks, like the idea of Sora and his father fighting is preposterous.

With a lot of effort, Riku manages not to snort.

“Um,” Sora says, turning red. He grabs Riku’s hand, surprising him, then holds them up for his mom to see.

“Oh?” she says. Then, “ _ oh _ .” She glances between the two of them, turning steadily pink and drawing a hand up to her mouth.

Riku’s nonplussed, but Sora doesn’t seem tense or worried about the reaction. Then he learns why: a second later, she tips her head back and starts laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “It’s not funny, not really, and of  _ course  _ it’s not funny you had a fight with your father, but… Frieda always  _ said  _ you two were destined for each other.”

Riku feels his own face flushing now.

“What?” he asks.

“ _ Really _ ?” Sora says.

“She was  _ always _ right, too,” she giggles. “You take after her in that, Riku.” She smiles fondly at the both of them “She’d be very proud of you.” 

He dips his head, totally red now.

“ _ Wait _ .” 

Sora and Riku both jump.

“Oh my god. That’s what the fight was about. Oh my  _ god _ , Sora, are you  _ okay _ ? What did he  _ say  _ to you?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he says, but he holds Riku’s hand a little tighter. “Riku stayed with me, so I’m okay.”

“Good,” she says. “Well…” she draws out the word. “Good in the sense that I’m glad he helped you feel better, but I’m not thrilled about you staying the night. I don’t think you two will be having any more sleepovers.”

Riku’s face is  _ flaming _ now.

“ _ Mom _ ,” Sora says, appalled.

“Don’t  _ Mom _ me, it’s not appropriate and you know it!” 

Sora mutters something that sounds like,  _ Anything we could do at a sleepover we could do during the day, too _ , and Riku tries to melt into the sidewalk. His mom just snorts.

“Well, you’d better not, but we can talk about it more inside. Riku, are you staying?”

He’s honestly tempted, even if it does sound like she just threatened to give Sora  _ the talk _ . He hasn’t seen her in forever, and he  _ missed  _ her, and he wants to know how she is, but if he goes inside he’ll stay for dinner, and he did promise his dad he’d help with the bike.

“Another time,” he says. “See you tomorrow, Sora?” He goes to extricate his hand but Sora holds tight. “Sora?”

Sora is looking at him, a funny expression on his face.

“CanIkissyougoodbye?” he asks finally.

Riku freezes solid and Mrs. Bienaimé laughs, a joyful, mischievous sound. Just like Sora’s. 

“Sora, don’t break him,” she teases. 

Riku doesn’t process it. He’s too preoccupied with the fact that Sora wants to  _ kiss  _ him. In broad  _ daylight _ . Outside, in front of his  _ house _ .

He nods once, a stiff, jerky thing, and Sora’s face lights up like the sun itself. He goes up on tiptoe, nudging Riku’s face into place with his own nose, then brings them together in a soft, gentle kiss. 

And Riku learns that  _ going weak at the knees _ is not just a clichéd figure of speech. 

“See you tomorrow,” Sora whispers, and Riku can feel the exhalation against his lips. It makes his heart  _ buzz _ more than beat. “Okay?”

He opens his mouth to agree, but a different set of words tumble out.

“Iloveyou.”

He’s immediately horrified and tries to pull away, but Sora won’t let him.

“Good, ‘cuz I love you too.” He presses another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Sap.”

His mom clears her throat, and he drops back to the flats of his shoes. Riku unlaces their fingers. His hand is stiff. He’d been gripping it  _ really  _ hard. 

“Come over sometime soon,” Mrs. Bienaimé says, motioning for her son. “Bring your dad. Better yet, bring the family. I haven’t even  _ met  _ Melissa yet. I’m pretty sure Ray’s worried I’m going to embarrass him, telling her all the dumb things he did when he was young.”

Riku smiles. He’d like for his dad and Sora’s mom to be friends again.

“I’ll tell them.”

As he turns away, he hears Sora say:

“So you talked to  _ Zoe  _ about me?”

“Well, she was worried about you. And it turns out I have a soft spot for anyone who likes my son.”

Riku smiles.

Sora will be fine.


End file.
